Effervescent Evasion
by SecretLibrarian
Summary: Meryl Stryfe has been entrusted with the care of a certain Millions Knives. -HET. EXPLICIT CONTENT IN FUTURE CHAPTERS. MERYL/KNIVES-
1. The Incurable Spoilt Brat

**Effervescent Evasion**

**Chapter 1****: 'The Incurable Spoilt Brat'**

_Author's Note: This chapter has been beta'd by CookieAsylum. Thank you very much!_

Taking care of Millions Knives was more of a chore than Meryl Stryfe cared to admit. Being stuck in the same worn-out old house with him - alone, at that! - was almost more than she could bear.

"Woman."

He was needy.

"Woman. Bring me water, _now."_

He complained.

"My arm hurts."

He insulted her.

"You are by far the _saddest _excuse for a care-giver I've ever had the misfortune of being in the same room with."

After this last particular declaration, Meryl leaned over against the sun-soaked faux-wooden railing of the porch. Her short, dark hair ruffled in the blazing-hot breeze. She closed her eyes and inhaled, slowly - exhaling so heavily that it felt like her heart would drop right through her body.

_Ugh, it doesn't even feel like I'm taking care of a grown man_, Meryl thought._ More like babysitting a petulant child. _

Thankfully, the Incurable Spoilt Brat was bedridden, which meant Meryl didn't have to worry about him wandering around the house and haranguing her - or killing her.

Vash had apparently felt comfortable enough with his brother to leave Meryl alone with him for a month. _A whole month_. The insurance girl frowned until her brows furrowed. This was _the_ Millions Knives - mass murderer and psycho extraordinaire. And Vash expected her to sit back and cope with the man all alone.

Even Millie had the sense to get out while the getting was good; Meryl's best friend had taken an investigation job back in New New York.

Frankly, Meryl didn't blame her.

"Woman."

She pressed her palms onto the worn 'wood'. _Maybe if I pretend not to hear him, he'll go away_, she thought.

'_No such luck.'_ She could practically _hear_ the smirk in his mental voice.

Meryl groaned aloud. That bastard could even read her _mind_. Was there no peace in this world to be had? After a dangerously long silence, Meryl stood up so violently that the rocking chair she had been _trying_ to relax in screeched in protest and rattled backward.

"Woman," came the needy voice once more.

She whipped around and stalked into the house, startling the little black cat that had been sleeping in the doorway. Being in socks prevented her from stomping as effectively as she would have liked, but Meryl did her best. The insurance girl made a beeline for the Plant's room.

_When I see him, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind! I leave him alone for fifteen minutes, and the bastard is already complaining. Even for him, this is a new record,_ she thought.

She threw open the door and bellowed, "_What _could you _possibly_ need _now_? I _just _checked on you -" What Meryl saw made her stop in mid-sentence.

The lanky blonde Plant was kneeling proudly on the floor, face contorted in pain. One of his pallid hands was gripping his bicep tightly, rivulets of ink-red blood trickling between his fingers. Knives had been healing rapidly despite the fact his body had been riddled with bullet holes when Vash had brought him to Meryl and Millie. Apparently, despite his rapid healing abilities, even a 'superior being' could re-open his wounds if he made overly ambitious movements.

"Don't just stand there staring like a dead fish," Knives snarled. "_Help_ me."

Meryl blinked and bit back a retort. Moving smoothly over to him, she helped him back onto the bed (was that a 'filthy spider' she just heard him mutter?). Meryl opened the cabinet built into the nightstand and hauled out the first-aid kit.

_You'd think a being as supposedly intelligent as he would have the sense not to push himself to the point of self-destruction, _Meryl thought.

She may as well have said that aloud - she felt his ice-chip eyes focus on her with eerie clarity. Meryl felt a blush creep up the back of her neck. The hairs there stood on end - oh, lord. Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Meryl said thinly, "Let me see your arm. Please."

Knives considered this for a moment. Clearly the Plant was debating on whether or not - or, more likely, _how_ to punish her for her mental transgression. Meryl calmly rolled the bottle of antiseptic in her hands, a wheel of gauze looped around her wrist.

Knives held out his arm.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Meryl set to work patting dry the bloodied wound on the blonde's upper arm. She uncorked the antiseptic bottle and made a point not to look into the Plant's burning eyes as she emotionlessly poured some of the stinging liquid onto the raw skin. Knives wasn't known for his tolerance to pain .

Meryl could _feel_ his glare. "Almost done," she said. _You big baby_.

Knives stiffened and she knew she was pushing her luck. She'd have to be careful to keep her thoughts quieter when she was around the mind-reading Plant. One more misstep and who _knew_ what he would do. Meryl wound the gauze very gently around the wound, making sure that her fingers were as gentle as bird wings.

"There," Meryl announced. "Please don't strain yourself unnecessarily in the future."

Knives said nothing but merely stared out the dusty window. He was silent as a corpse, and his regal form was about as welcoming. Meryl knew when she was being dismissed. Sighing, she pressed two fingers to her temples. She put the first-aid kit away and left.

Maybe the next day would be less trying. Meryl doubted it.

**TBC**


	2. Pepper

**Effervescent Evasion**

**Chapter 2:**** 'Pepper'**

_Author's Note: This chapter was beta'd by CookieAsylum. Thank you very much!_

_(Also, reviews __do__ provoke faster updates.)_

Morning spilled blazing shards of sunlight through the crack in her curtains.

It speared across her eyes like searing-hot oil and Meryl groaned. Rolling out of bed, she tripped in her tangled mint-green sheets and went skittering into the nightstand. Wincing at the contact of the synthetic wood against her hip, she ran a hand through her messy black hair and headed down the hall.

She didn't bother to throw a shirt on over her casual tank-top. It was white, and the material thin - something Meryl would never _dream_ of wearing in public. It wasn't quite as good as sleeping in the nude in the sweltering Gunsmoke summer nights, but there was no _way_ Meryl was comfortable enough to do that when _he_ was around. She wore lime-green low-hanging PJ pants with a pattern of tiny yellow stars.

They were her favorite.

Meryl was used to getting away with wearing whatever the hell she wanted whenever the hell she felt like it, simply because her charge was bedridden. Which was why it came as quite a shock when she entered the kitchen.

Knives was waiting at the table.

He was as still and proud as a statue, barely flicking his eyes to acknowledge her entrance.

Meryl stared, her surprise shaking the last remnants of sleep from her. Hadn't he learned his lesson? He had _just_ injured himself the day before. She suddenly felt self-conscious - the feeling amplified by the fact that Knives' eyes had suddenly locked onto the double swells of her pert breasts, their rosebud nipples spearing through the thin cloth accusingly at him. Blushing, she whipped around and promptly marched right back to her room.

_I'll nag at him not to get up and move around in a minute, _she thought.

She returned moments later with a heavy sweater, pissed at Knives' hint of a smirk. He clearly wasn't attracted to her 'filthy spider' body, but was indubitably delighted by his ability to make her uncomfortable. He leaned back in his seat, ignoring the ominous creak of the chair.

He was staring expectantly at her.

Meryl did her best to ignore him.

His smug expression began to straighten into a more bored, borderline annoyed one. _That's more like it,_ the little insurance woman thought to herself. She followed her nose to the ink-black coffee in its pot and poured herself a cup. Ignoring the feel of icy eyes on her back, Meryl proceeded to indulge in the elaborate coffee-creation ritual.

First, sugar. Two whole spoonfuls of it. Then, cream, until the searing-hot liquid was as pale as a moon and threatening to spill over the top. Meryl loved making her coffee this way. It reminded her of her mother.

He was still watching her.

She snapped the lid onto the bottle of cream and put it back into the ancient, humming refrigerator. Taking a spoon between her short, slender fingers, she stirred the coffee until the scent of boldly-roasted beans and syrupy-sweet cream made her eyes flutter closed in pleasure. She lifted it to her mouth and took a languid sip.

Then, and only then, did she turn around to address the annoyed Millions Knives. For a moment she felt regret for ignoring him so blatantly. He looked like he would kill her.

He _hated_ being ignored, if his expression was any indication. Beneath the iron sculpt of his high cheekbone twitched a muscle. The white button-up shirt he'd lazily stopped buttoning only half-way up exposed the muscled planes of his pecs, smooth and flat. A pair of tight denims hugged his endless legs, bunching around the bulge of his groin but otherwise uninterrupted in their fluidity. Staring at the package of one Millions Knives was probably _not_ the best idea she'd had.

"How are you feeling?" Meryl asked suddenly, desperate.

Knives replied, voice steely, "Fine, no thanks to _you._"

Meryl bit back a retort and instead forced a smile onto her face. "Ah, glad to hear it," she said (- well, that was not entirely true, admittedly). She knew better than to ask if he was _sure _he was fine, and did his arm hurt, etc - that would just piss him off.

Knives stared at her. Meryl sipped her warm coffee and stretched languidly, catlike, on her way to the kitchen counter. She didn't usually eat breakfast, coffee was enough for her, but she always made Knives something to eat.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Knives gave her a deadpan look.

The coffee was putting her into a good mood. She chuckled. "All right, I'll make you something," she said good-naturedly.

Knives was staring at her like she'd grown another head.

Ignoring his wide eyes, Meryl set to work making an omelette. Cracking four eggs into the hot pan, the sound of sizzling whites filled the air. He probably thought she was bipolar, what with her sudden fluxes in emotion. Meryl rummaged around in the groaning old refrigerator - it was packed with food, for the Plant ate _a lot_ - and took out a shiny red bell-pepper.

She felt his eyes on her as she chopped it. She picked up a slice of the freshly-chopped pepper and popped it into her mouth, relishing the juicy vegetable's taste.

"Mmm," she purred happily.

"Woman, do you _always_ take such _pleasure_ in stuffing your _face_?" Knives snapped suddenly.

Meryl jumped at his voice, so sudden in the quiet of the early-morning kitchen. She felt indignation rise - could she help it that coffee and bell-peppers were two of her most favorite foods on this dustball of a planet? Forcing herself to keep a pleasant smile on her face, she said, "I can't help it. Peppers are delicious. Would you like one before I cook the rest?"

She held out a strip of sliced bell-pepper to him.

He recoiled like she had offered him poison. "I will _not_ eat food that touched your _filthy_ _spider_ hands!"

Knives was glaring at her.

Meryl blushed, suddenly feeling very stupid. She couldn't forget that this was a human-hating mass-murderer, here, not some Joe Schmoe who would accept her peppery offering. She tossed the chopped pepper into the rapidly-cooking omelette, salting it, flipping it, and rolling it into an attractive shape all in one fluid movement of her spatula. She slapped it on a plate and fairly _threw_ the plate onto the table before Knives.

His eyes dragged slowly from her face to the offered omelette. He never let her watch him eat. "Hn," he said eloquently.

"You're welcome. Well, it's a busy day, gotta get to work," she informed him. "Don't push yourself too hard."

She could only hope he would actually eat the omelette that her 'filthy spider hands' had made.

Meryl padded off back to her room to get dressed. If Knives weren't using the room, she'd work in her 'office'. As it was, all of her papers had been stacked onto the floor of her room, and she found herself sitting cross-legged in the middle of them, a clipboard in hand.

Bernadelli could be such a pain sometimes - file this, write that. To be honest, she would almost rather go and hang out with the spoilt brat of a Plant down the hall - who, judging by the clinking of a fork against cleaned plate, had finished his breakfast.

**TBC**


	3. The Golden Treasure Trail

**Effervescent Evasion**

**Chapter 3:**** 'Golden Treasure Trail'**

_Author's Note: __Author's Note: This chapter has not yet been beta'd. If you'd like to beta this chapter, e-mail me at ._

_(Sorry for the delay in posting this. Also, reviews __do__ provoke faster updates. Thank you to my loyal reviewers!)_

Several weeks had passed. Meryl was now used to seeing Knives gracing her breakfast table with his presence. The little insurance girl was also beginning to learn more about the mysterious Plant. For one thing, he was a lot like a child. He pouted. He grumped. He threw tantrums. But most of all, he gave her the'silent treatment'.

It pissed Meryl off.

It was like her very existence as a human being was a personal offense. She hadn't done anything to the guy except, well, _exist,_ and he acted like she'd killed his lover in cold blood! Meryl growled and brushed her teeth with a vengeance. _It's childish and unfair_, she thought. _And why the hell does that ruin my mood? That dick shouldn't have any effect on me._

They had argued again that day. Whenever they argued, Meryl's mood deteriorated. Her day passed at work with Meryl flinging sarcastic quips at her coworkers at the slightest provocation, and eventually being asked to go home early by her understanding, if exasperated, boss.

This was how Meryl ended up cleaning the house.

Yes, _cleaning_ the _house_. It was another thing Meryl had picked up from her mother. When you were angry, do something productive that won't harm anyone. So she took up a mop, duster, and sanitizing spray and rushed around the house like a furious hurricane. Nothing was safe - nothing.

Not even Knives' room.

By the time she got to the Plant's lair she was covered in dust, sweating, and red-faced with exertion. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she figured the best way to handle invading his personal space was to just barge right in - hopefully he would be so surprised he wouldn't think to kill her on the spot.

"Offense is the best defense!" Meryl murmured, and then went for it.

BAM!

Meryl opened the door so quickly that it flew open on its hinges and slammed into the wall, bouncing. Charging into the room, bucket of soapy water sloshing, the little insurance woman only got a few steps in before stopping dead in her tracks. Her mouth dropped open, the bucket fell.

Knives was naked.

The Plant was standing with his back to her, staring out at the baking desert as usual. The sunlight gleamed off of his pallid form, creating a white-hot halo'd silhouette around him. The not-so-subtle ripples and bunches of his natural and beautiful musculature were sensual hills and valleys, just begging to be explored with tongue. His broad shoulders led to a tiny wasp waist and surprisingly full, firm butt. The Plant, upon hearing the door open so suddenly, turned around to face her. And he was staring at her with an expression so furious Meryl figured she might as well be dead already.

'Ohjesuschristhe'ssofuckin'gorgous,' thought Meryl incoherently, before instinct won over and the 'flight' aspect of fight or flight kicked in. Speechless, and trying hard not to follow the golden treasure trail that ran down the muscular plane of his belly to his groin, Meryl backed out of the room.

She closed the door as quietly as she could, trying not to provoke the killing machine further. After about two minutes of silent pause, and no hellish blonde tornado came erupting out of the room, Meryl exhaled and leaned against the closed door. Her heart pounded.

Meryl felt something wet in her nose, and reached up curiously to touch it. Her fingers came away with blood. Oh, damnit! She was such a perverted woman!

Meanwhile, back inside his room, Knives turned around to look out the window once more. Meryl wouldn't know it, but the barest hint of a smirk graced his lips.

**TBC**


	4. Sweltering

**Effervescent Evasion**

**Chapter 4:**** 'Sweltering'**

_Author's Note: This chapter has not yet been beta'd. If you'd like to beta this chapter, please e-mail me at . _

_(Also, reviews __do__ provoke faster updates.)_

That night, Meryl woke to the distinct feeling of someone watching her.

The little insurance girl was spread-eagled on the bed. The night was one of the hottest of the year, and she had thrown off her sweat-soaked sheets and flung herself on top of the mattress. Her pillow, having been deemed too suffocatingly soft, had been chucked across the room. When she had _finally _gotten to sleep, she slept hard, the heat lulling her into one of the deepest slumbers she'd had in her life.

Which was why it took Meryl almost fifteen minutes to wade through the sluggish fog of her sleep-addled brain and realize that she was being watched. Fear crept into her belly. Keeping her breathing as even as possible, she cracked open an eye and peered around.

A silhouette was sitting at her open window, staring into the room. It was a man's silhouette, and Meryl resisted the urge to let out an earsplitting shriek of fear. _Dammit, Meryl! You went over this already - leaving the window open when your house is on the outskirts of town - away from all other houses and potential rescuers - is NOT a good idea. Now you've gone and done it!_ thought Meryl.

Her heartbeat sped.

"Calm yourself," came a low rumble of a male voice.

Meryl blinked in surprise. _How did he know I was awake?_ "Knives?"

"Yes."

"How did you know I was awake? W-What are you..?" Meryl croaked, her voice as sleepy as she was.

The silence was so prolonged that Meryl actually felt sleep tug on her brain once more. Her eyelids drooped. She tried valiantly to stay awake, to stay conscious, but the man - no, the _murderer_ sitting across the room from her was so damn quiet that if he didn't speak soon she'd just -

"I... _felt_ your heartbeat." Knives' voice was soft and feral, like fur on naked skin.

Meryl's eyes snapped open. "What?" she said, voice lilting unpleasantly high, even to her own ears. She blushed. _Good thing that the darkness steals color_.

Knives frowned and furrowed his brows. "Woman, your whining anno -"

"Why are you in my room?" Meryl repeated, insistent. She was becoming more awake now, and she sat up in a rustle of bed-sheets. As she sat up, her recollection of barging in on Knives naked earlier returned - and her embarrassment grew. _Oh god, how do I apologize... he hasn't killed me yet, though. That's a good sign. _

The movement seemed to make Knives uncomfortable - almost as though he had forgotten she was capable of doing anything other than snore and sweat in her bed. He stood so abruptly that Meryl's eyes almost didn't catch it.

Meryl bit back a gasp.

The moonlight shimmered through the window and onto the Plant's bare chest. It was spectacular, to say the least. The flat, tight swells of his pecs gave way to the sensual dips and valleys between iron-hard abs, a miniature mountain range on his long torso. Dark-pink nipples, flat in the way that only men's are, brought to mind large beauty marks - the only thing that marred the stunning, yet pallid, expanse of his torso. A trail of honey-colored hair began below his navel and trickled down below the waist of his sweatpants - a spun-gold striptease in its own right.

Meryl wondered if she was actually dreaming. _This can't be real. This can't be real. This CAN'T be real, _Meryl chanted in her own head, a mantra. _Seeing Knives naked not once, but TWICE today? Well, almost naked, anyways._.._ This can't be real._ Maybe if she said it enough times, it would come true. Her thoughts were interrupted, though.

He strode silently across the room. Despite the strength of his steps, he was frighteningly quiet on his feet. The insurance girl was put-off. He moved like a big cat, all fluid muscle and contained grace, muscles bunching and stretching beneath his skin. He was a predator. Stopping in her doorway, he paused, not bothering to turn around to look at her.

"Go back to bed, Re-..." he paused, correcting himself, then said, "... _woman_. We will not speak of this in the morning."

And with that the blonde psychopath left her room, and Meryl had a hard time getting to sleep again that night. It _wasn't_ because of the heat.

**TBC**


End file.
